When drowning there comes a point when fighting to live is a lesser option than accepting death.
I think that people know I’m drowning. I just don’t think they know how deep I am.
When I get too drunk on the weekend or get drunk alone, the people around me see it as I like to have a good time even though maybe I take it too far
They don’t know that I find comfort in the feeling of being so drunk I can escape my mind
When I joke about how I don’t take care of myself, they probably think she’s just a gross person
They don’t know that I have no will to take care of myself since the depression is draining me
When I over analyze or obsessed over people and situations, they might think it’s a little strange the extent to which I obsess but maybe she’s just a critical thinker
They don’t know that there’s demons in my brain telling me that everyone is hating me, talking about me, and laughing at me
When I say I’m giving up weed and then I’m smoking it again, they might think “wow she’s just a huge pothead”
They don’t know that it’s an addiction that has consumed my thoughts for 3 years and made me unfocused, unmotivated and sluggish
When I make self deprecating jokes, they might think “oh she’s just doing it because it is funny”
They don’t know that they jokes aren’t jokes, they are inner thoughts of self hatred I try to express in a lighter manner
When I cancel plans, or don’t respond to texts, or sleep until noon.. they might think I just don’t get enough sleep or I just don’t want to hang out with anyone
They don’t know that I spend my free time asleep because it’s easier to sleep my life away than to make plans
They know that things are off. They know that I am drowning.
But they just don’t know how close I am to sinking.